Gift giving wisdom?..............

Responsive reading -

Me- Hello.

Me- I am Amy.

Me- I am a recovering blog neglecter.

You - HeeeellllllllO AAAAAAAAAmmyyy

......................................................

There are some things I shouldn't talk about. Sometimes though situations end like this "....." instead of like this " . "

It's uncomfortable.

So this is what I shouldn't talk about, but I will so it can have a " . "

D posted this on his FB: "Christmas lesson #1: Never buy your wife something she says she doesn't want. Odds are she will not like it!"

This statement is true. Men should surely heed this Christmas lesson lest they get their feelings hurt a bit... or is it their pride. I guess it depends on the man. You know, whether he is in touch with his feminine side or not.

feelings = in touch

pride = not in touch

At Christmas, when you ask a woman what she wants for Christmas and she tells you point blank. That is the gift she would appreciate or her heart truly wants.

If she hem haws around and doesn't give you a direct answer... then she gets, what she gets. If she doesn't like her gift because she neglected to tell you a certain thing, it's her fault, not the males.

I have learned over the past 5 years particularly, that you must be direct with the male species. One must say exactly what they want or need. No matter how harsh it sounds to the female or other females. It has come to me that males need to have specific directions and spoken out loud. They need the female to say exactly what she wants or needs so they can do it.

I have learned that hoping that the male will understand what I mean without saying it so as not to be harsh or direct...DOES NOT work. This is not just with my husband, but with my son, my brother, salesmen, men on the phone.... all males in general that I deal with.

I have learned that generally they do not perceive this as rude. They see it as helpful (or maybe understandable) even if they are annoyed by the action required.

This Christmas I was asked what I wanted, point blank. I would normally hem haw around and then get whatever. Usually whatever is fine. But since I am being a tad more money conscious these days, I thought better to get something that would truly be used by me or others and would bring everyday pleasure.

Because even when I say, "Don't get me anything." I still get something.

So I stated a bird house or the new pink glitter TOMS. My alpha male, believes these to be not good gift ideas and buys the thing I repeatedly said I did not want.

When I opened the gift that I already knew what it was because he loves this particular gift himself (which is a fine gift for him)...I had an extremely unpleasant battle inside my body to control my emotions and make sure they came out grateful.

I did not do a good job.

I failed.

My face, eyes and lips spoke not gratitude in a very uncomfortable way. I know it was uncomfortable cause my mom chastised me later and D didn't talk to me for almost 2 days even though I apologized several times. I had it coming though so I just gave him some space to work it out. He loves me again now, which is always good.

I would like to blame it on some random hormonal madness, but truly I think it was just me, showing me. I get weary trying hard to be just the right person to all people. I unleashed my emotions on purpose. I didn't hold back the furrowed brow or fake smile or comments that should have been held for a private conversation.

I didn't spew venom or anything or get mad...I just didn't shoot fireworks out my butt on purpose. I didn't pretend to love the item or even like it....cause my insides didn't want this. I would have rather had the nothing than to have had to go through opening the thing I didn't want at all, faking gratitude, and then sending it back, which I have done already.

My mind was chain linking thoughts of, "Why ask if you don't want to know what I really want? Why waste money just to buy something? Why do I have to open it while everyone is looking at me? Don't take my picture."

Please understand I am not being rude or ugly when I write these words. I am just stating....that sometimes giving the gift is more fun to me than receiving one. Not in a cliche way either...I mean for real.

I learned this about myself this Christmas. For real, believe these words....

I don't like to receive gifts. It embarrasses me.

It makes me feel uneasy and anxious. The gift turns into a show of emotions that I may not be capable of living up to in truth.

I honestly feel like the true gifts people give me are shown to me in their actions...wrapped up in the sincerity of their eyes as it is done in love or wanting to please.

These are gifts that I feel the most thankful for and gratitude is freely and truthfully given. My heart has no boundaries for gifts given to me like this.

On my 40th b-day D gave me peace and quiet to read while he earnestly did the thing I didn't want to do...cook and clean up a delicious meal full of things that I adore. The thought he put into my b-day was a true gift. My sister gave me a day at the spa (which I haven't used yet). I loved this gift too, the reason being, she knows I never do things like this for myself. She gave it to me because she loves personal gift giving. She sent it to me in the mail, so I was able to open it in private. No one was staring at me waiting for my gratitude and fireworks. I was able to express my gratitude in words shared between only her and I. Both of those gifts meant a lot to me.

My mom cashed in her credit cards points to this year and got me a $50 Starbucks gift card out of them. I loved that too. After the present swapping was done and everyone was on their on later that morning, she gave it to me in private. I was grateful. When I hugged her it wasn't for show, I loved her and it was a gift she knew I would use.

Receiving gifts is hard for me and I generally do not prefer to receive gifts.

I would much rather pick a personal gift and give it randomly out of gratitude than to buy a gift....just to buy one. I hate that. Pondering what to get someone to the point it becomes a chore, sucks. It's not longer a gift of thought & love, but a thing to fulfill the obligation.

In this instance it is better to receive the nothing and watch the happiness of others......at least, to me anyway.

I ended up buying myself the pink glitter TOMS with Christmas money from my mom. D's mom and dad also gave me money. Later that that afternoon, after receiving the money, my car battery FINALLY put itself (and me) out of its miserable existence by dying permanently. The cost of the new battery was just a little over the amount of Christmas money that D's parents had given to me. I felt I no longer had to worry about spending the money on groceries, sports or extracurricular activities...misusing the money so to speak. I had used it on myself in a really useful way. I felt satisfied.

These words are one of my truths. I don't feel ashamed of them. I hope you will not find fault in me when my face is in your presence.

to tuck or not to tuck, the epic ending. Praise God..........

The soccer season is almost over.  One more game and the fall school start up chaos is completed….mostly.

We finally got CB playing soccer with his shirt tucked in.  It would seem that with me as his safe haven for hiding from his fear of kids running together in a cluster and being overwhelmed….it was too easy to quit, show his butt, and sit on the sidelines. No matter that he has ran with other kids in a cluster in our backyard a billion times.  It wasn’t the same. D and I came to the conclusion for him to play I would need to be perceived as not being at the field.

These are the steps to getting a 4 ¾ year old child to play a sport that you paid money for and don’t want him to quit (When you have accidentally volunteered his dad to be the coach).

1.  When the child sasses you about how he doesn’t want to play soccer anyway….yank his cleats off, his shin guards, and his jersey then throw them as far as you can into the yard. 

2. Eat Lindor chocolate balls 3 at a time, until the bad mommy feelings inside you go far, far away.

3. Make a deal with the child about tucking his shirt in that will surely be broken.

4. Send him to the soccer field with his dad and tell him you are not able to come to his game. Plan to show up and hide behind a tree to watch him play.

 

5.  In the last quarter, after you have watched him have a great time, score a goal, smile really big all with his idiot shirt tucked in…. reveal yourself as being there the whole time. 

This is when your child will reveal to you that he saw you drive up and get out of the car. That he saw you hiding behind all of the trees.  He will want to know why you didn’t just sit in a chair like all of the other moms and dads.

This is when you will need to eat some more Lindor chocolate balls 3 at a time, until the bad mommy feelings inside you go far, far away.   

                            The End

To tuck or not to tuck, my friends, that is the blasted question........

Cole had his very first ever soccer game yesterday.

We have been waiting since he signed up for his first big game. I made sure he ate well all day. I made sure he had a nap. I made sure all his gear was clean and ready to be put on when he woke up from his nap. Maysie had her Flip to record all the fun stuff, Zac had the water bottles ready to go, we all rubbed Sky's magic belly for good luck, D got home a little early so we could all ride together.

Excitement in the Williams household.

Did all that preparation work for me?


um, no.


Before we left Z told CB he'd have to tuck his shirt in. The little kid's shirts are too long. I had personally hoped they wouldn't have to be tucked in at the age, cause that would be a lot of tucking. But alas it was a rule that must be obeyed for the game. CB almost had a melt down at the house about tucking that shirt in. I had asked Z to just leave him alone I figured once we got to the field I would casually tuck it in and we'd move on.

um, no.

D casually tucked his shirt in once at the field and all was well in the universe. All the stars lined up properly till CB burst into tears and wanted his shirt untucked.

About this time I was walking up with the cooler full of after game drinks and snacks. I am like what the heck is wrong now? M, Z, D, & CB all at once try to explain to me that CB will not tuck his shirt in. No shirt tucked in = no playing(to put the pressure on).

Z is in shear panic the whole game cause CB isn't going to get to play and CB is sabotaging himself with his pride...it is literally making Z crazy. May is going on about how she can't film him and trying to guilt him. Sky is rubbing it in his face that he is not going to get to have a Capri-Sun drink and fruit roll up by drinking a Capri-Sun drink in his face. CB doesn't care his pride is now firmly cemented. I am embarrassed by his behavior and trying to do the right parenting thing. Secretly on the inside, I want to insist that he get his butt on the field and play like he is supposed too or pull my hair out strand by strand with a pair of tweezer in sheer torture.

To make a hour and a half long story short. I told him we had paid for all that gear and he committed to playing on the team, now Dad had committed to coaching and by golly HE WAS GOING TO TUCK THAT STUPID SHIRT IN EVEN if he sat in the chair on the sidelines.

Which is what he did.

That little boy had determined in his mind that if he had to have his shirt tucked in, he WAS NOT GOING TO PLAY...even if Jesus came back I don't think he would have got up out of that chair, he was so full of himself. Strand by strand I tell you......

Not once did he ask me to get up, not once did he say he would play. He would only convey that I was being mean and he wanted his shirt untucked.

After the game he did not ask for a Capri-Sun or fruit roll up not even in the car on the ride home. D handled the whole thing much better than I thought he would. I thought he would read him the Right Act about his attitude, but he didn't. He conveyed his disappointment and explained how the team had to work harder because he didn't do his part. Explaining how other team members had to be extracted from the opposing team to fill in his spot and relayed what we put down as parents for him to play. When we got home we made him go to his room for a while and then onto bed. He was not happy about that at all.

I conveyed to D that I was proud of him for not losing his temper and handling CB so well. The other kids clapped for him and gave him the standing ovation treatment. They were proud of him too.

In the end though, when I kissed CB goodnight, he was happy. It was as if that evening had never happened and had been erased from his mind.

CB- Goodnight Mommy, I want to give you a kiss on the lips(its his thing).

A- (kiss, big squeezy hug) Okay CB see you in the morning. After tonight we are never going to bring this up again okay. You are going to be expected to do better with out having to be reminded of this day.

CB- I know Mommy. I am going to play next time. I want to play soccer. I'm going to wear my shirt tucked in. (He is telling me these things so easily, they are just flowing out smooth and velvety....I just can't understand why he so happily says them now and so stubbornly refused them just 3 hours earlier.)

A- Okay, sounds good( I give him a big hug and leave)

CB- Go get Daddy and tell him I want a kiss goodnight please.

I tell D.

D and CB have some conversation I can't hear over the air purifier though I am trying so hard to hear it my eyes are squinting for better reception. I can't make it work and move on.

Later that evening, I was conveying to D my severe agitation at having to tuck the dumb shirt in anyway, cause they were too long. To which he said something along the lines of - Thats what's wrong with kids. They aren't made to follow the rules, they make them up as they go along and they expect everyone in life to play along. When kids don't get their way they pride up, people give in and, they learn that if they stomp their feet long enough they get what they demand and don't have to earn it and to heck with respect for themselves or anyone else....the shirt tucked is a principle point about respecting the rules of the game, himself, and his team mates, and his coach. (in a quick nutshell)

I understood that perfectly and it was very valid.

Ugh!! My inability to know how to deal with it publicly was frustrating. It put me on the spot about my child's pride issue. All the peeps in our little family pull their weight pretty good, especially when pressed. Last night Cole did exactly the thing that none of my children have ever done...wait me out and won, while wallowing in pride. I commented to one parent, half joking-half not, that I ought to make him wear his pajamas tucked in to bed tonight. I didn't though...cause he sleeps in his underwear....

I have seen kids do that kind of stuff before, but I had always had the whole "not my kid syndrome." Consistently, CB has been the one who teaches me how to handle parenting skills that I have never had to access before.

I mean it really is a truth that no two kids are the same. Some may come close, but they are not the same. I can see distinct differences in all 4 of my children.

This goes back to me saying 100 times.....

Parenting is freaking hard work!

I have to just keep telling myself.....he's only been alive for 4 years, he is still a super young human with a lot more lessons to learn....


......and teach me about parenting apparently.


Thank you God for grace, I crave it.

*

my stomach said it wants me to suck my thumb................

Cole still sucks his thumb. He tells us he is going to stop on his next birthday.

Yesterday D was impressed with how well Cole could ride a Razor scooter. Cole has a Radio Flyer 3 wheeled scooter that is super cute. I guess he is over the cute scooter, he wants a big kid scooter.

So we played Let's Make A Deal.

A- Cole, if you quit sucking your thumb Dad and I will buy you a big kid scooter, any color you want.

C- Okay

.........sitting on the couch with D and I trying so hard not to suck his thumb.

........rolling all over the floor cause he is super tired trying not to suck his thumb....in his mouth, out! ........in his mouth for a quick suck while he thinks no one is looking, out...........

.......in the back yard whining cause he is tired - "push me on the swings, no I want something to eat, I need a drink, take me on a bike ride, watch TV with me," and so on and so on and so on......

D is fixin to finish up power washing our house and I am fixin to supervise. Cole heads towards the screened porch to go inside where no one can see him suck his thumb. Z is following him inside cause it is so stinkin HOT!

Z- Cole, quit suckin your thumb.

CB- (irritated as crap) I'm NOT SUCKING MY THUMB ZAC!.....(quick mind searching for ideas, much more calm tone) I'm just licking my fingernail.

Me, D, & Z start smiling at each other with our teeth showing and chuckling a bit, it ticks Cole off. Glaring straight at us now with utter contempt, CB shoves his thumb in his mouth and shuts the door on us.

For the rest of the night he wore us down with his irritable attitude at trying not to suck his thumb. We were trying to be understanding, cause we all know it is going to be terribly hard for him to break this habit. I mean it's part of who he is. For as long as I have known Cole to be Cole, he has sucked his thumb and rolled an ear....be it his or someone else's, either using his fingers or HIS TOES.

Cole quitting sucking his thumb is huge to me. It is symbolic of no more babies in the house officially.

D raggin him out as he was driving us crazy last night, finally asked, "Cole, dude, do you want a cigarette?"

Which I thought was funny. That is how Cole was behaving like he was having DT's or something.

Cole replied - No, cigarettes are gross.

Which I was happy about. Cole would have ate the world if I let him last night, all in the name of trying not to suck his thumb.

CB - Mooooooommmm, I just want to suck it. My brain is telling me to suck my thumb. My stomach said it wants me to suck my thumb.

May - You-are-driving-me-crazy...my stomach is telling me it is time for you to go to bed.

Finally at 8:30 with the sun shining bright I put him to bed, sucking his thumb. I had to hold him off a bit cause he gets up at the butt crack of dawn anyway.

Today is a new day. I have seen him walking around the house this morning actually licking his thumb nail trying to keep from sucking his thumb. Poor guy, I hope he'll not have to fight this too long.

Though, thinking a little deeper, this is only the first of many battles he'll have to fight huh?


(Cole "toe-ing" Uncle Charlie while he is trying to sleep)

begging a 13 year old, do I have no dignity left?...........

On the morning of Wednesday, January the 27th, in my mind Twilight psychosis continues..........

......What time is it? 8:00am. I have to leave the house here in 15 minutes at the latest. She still isn't up...

If I am really quiet, I can sneak into her room, she won't even know it (the 3rd Twilight book, Eclipse) is missing, I'll put it back before she realizes the book is gone, since she only reads at night surely I am good to go.....quietly.....need to miss the cracking boards in the hallways......no movement yet in her room......really quiet and slowly take the book off the bedside table.....easy....easy.........almost.......

YOU GOT IT! now quietly wa........

M- NO MOM! PUT IT BACK!

A- Aaawww May...Really?? I am going to be at the doctors office for 5 HOURS!!! Can't you just let me take it with me for the endless hours I will have to wait?? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!
M- NO! You're not taking it! Put it back!

A- May, Pleeeease, don't make me sit there for 5 hours with NOTHING TO DO...I will only read 3 chapters and I will stop, I swear.....

M- No you won't, I know you, you won't stop, get out Mom, I am not going to let you take it, no.....

A- May!... (I am almost ready to stomp my feet in protest for her unreasonable attitude)

M- NO! OUT!

A- I am so angry with you, why are you being so crazy like this (when in reality if I had only took a pause, it was me behaving crazy......I mean. I am begging my 13 year old to borrow a dang book, not just begging, but pleading)?

A-FINE, I will just take my butt to the Walmart and buy my own books. I swear I will... since you won't share with me (I threaten, as if she cares).

M- I will share with you when I am done. I will give it to you, not till then, cause you'll read ahead of me and be all in my room reading all day and it's a distraction. If you can just wait, then you can have it. Just be patient.

A- (I assess her book mark and realize I am not going to get the book for at least 3 or 4 more days with her only reading at night and by then I will have had some type of Twilight DT's or something and I felt a smothering sensation, like I might never get the book.) FINE!! May, you are being so mean to me.....

M- (she smiles, with her hair all a morning mess) Get out of my room, you have a Twilight problem that I can't help you with.....

So I stomp out of her room, grab my car keys, kiss the appropriate children goodbye for the morning, eyeing the room for evidence they have eaten their breakfast....and make a plan to drive straight to Walmart with the extra 10 minutes I was going to sit in the waiting room and buy those darn books!! I would never have to ask her for one of hers again. So there, put that in yer pipe and smoke it.

That's what I did.

Flawlessly.

When I had Eclipse & Breaking Dawn in my hands walking out the Wally World door, Edward, Bella, and I were all furry bunnies & rainbows & floating, glittering pink hearts, I think I heard some harps playing in the background.......

.......no it was this for sure......

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

I punched my car door unlocked with with voracity and smirked the full 50 seconds it took me to get to the Doctors office from Walmart.

Eclipse was ON! I swallowed 4 chapters whole in the doctors office that morning.

Within three days May was done with her book and started Breaking Dawn, she passed Eclipse onto Zac with some half cocked effort to appease me. Knowing that I had told her he could read my book when I finished which was not to far after her.

I started Breaking Dawn late last week. Finished it last night.

I do for sure have a Twilight problem. I am 100% sure I need an intervention or a 12 step recovery plan implemented immediately.

We all watched the first movie on the Netflix. We all hated it at first cause it skipped so many details. But for some unknown reason May and I felt compelled to watch the dang thing at least 12 more times before we sent it back.......only then to later buy the soundtrack which M, Z, & I all have slammed onto our MP3's immediately.

Rock and roll with violin & heavy drums is a terrific draw for both Z and I in all things music......we're addicted to the music.

May and I listened to the soundtrack in the car knowing exactly which music went with which scenes. We happily reminisced what about each of those scenes was our favorite and least favorite. This session lasted until we had listened to the whole CD. It's a sickness......

I have no idea what I shall do with my reading time now. I am kinda glad I am done so I can gain some of my parenting self respect back.

Last night, at 2:15 am, as I laid the thick, black matted, hard cover(cause Z & I hate the paper covers, we take them off), 760 page, Breaking Dawn book on Zac's steps as a surprise, cause he has finished Eclipse now & was waiting on me....... barely in control of his own self.......I felt good.....and tired.

We'll see how I last over the next couple of days....maybe if I watch the movie some more, I won't start rereading the first book........just to get a fix....

.........................................................

A- uuummm........Hi,......I'm Amy(insert excited nervous tention)........and I have a Twilight addiction.....

Support Group - HHiiiii Amy........

well, you don't have to get all red in the face about it.......

Today I needed to get rid of some bananas cause they were going bad. I told May and Z we were going to have Home Ec. class today and they were going to bake something with those bananas.

May jumped on it. I didn't see Z till dinner or something.

She decided to make a Hummingbird Cake.

So I was helping her gather all her supplies and measure out this and that so it would all be at her fingertips. I figured once she got it all together it would rock & roll along a bit easier. So I was instructing her a little here and there about things in the recipe that would make her life easier. She wasn't having it.

She fully intended to make the cake HERSELF, without my help at all. I tried to explain to her that even dang Emeril had an instructor once.

I was trying to explain to her about beating the eggs prior to putting them into the mix....she was tuning me out. So I asked her again, "Are you going to beat those eggs first?"

M- I said yes

A- ....with a fork or just let the blender do it once you dump them in?

M- with the BLENDER!

A- Fine....you're supposed to do it with a fork and let them rest a bit before you dump them.

M- oh.

So she is him-hawing around playing with eggs likes she might hurt them if she moves the fork around too quickly. It occurred to me she may not fully understand how to beat the eggs, so I nicely walked up beside her and showed her how to tip the bowl diagonally a bit and the with the wrist, move the fork.

M- Fine...you just do it...

A- No, its your cake you do it, I just wanted to show you how to beat them so you would know in the future...

M- No, do it......

A- No.

I move away from her to get her a stick and a half of butter, cause I am gettin the vibe she wants to rip my hair out or something and I'm kinda scared.

I was going to cut the stick of butter in half with a fairly sharp knife, which she would normally hate to pick up from the dishwasher. May tells me, all red in the face, that she wants to do it, the whole cake, by herself.

A- Fine! I am done then, do it yourself.

I go to take a shower and just forget it. She does know how to read and whatever happens, happens. I am thinking of the pineapples. I know the can is significantly more than she needs, I am hoping she'll not dump the whole big can into the mix. I tell myself to forget it and let her handle it.

The bathroom door opens...

M- Mom, when you get out can you chop the pecans for me?

A- No, May, It's YOUR cake, you do it YOUR self.

M- I can't I'm not strong enough to use the chopper thing

A- Well...figure it out May its YOUR cake

....the door shut......I was so stinkin aggravated with her and myself cause I just wanted to be there to help with clean up and available for quick reference if she needed it....and she totally blew me off.

I knew she couldn't do the chopper cause it does take a lot of effort.....and she's......skinny & tiny boned.....unlike her momma.

I hollered loudly from the shower to get her attention to come back into the bathroom, cause I felt guilty for being snide.

M- What? (one eyebrow up)

A- I will chop the pecans for you when I get out.....

M- Okay.....(brow relaxes)

...then she goes on to ask me about the pineapples while slamming the recipe on the shower door for me to look at, which relieves me.

I did chop the nuts for her when I got out and that was all I did. I tried to stay out of her way as I knew she was in fact a competent cook when she tries.

When she was done and the cake was in the oven....we were finishing the clean up.

M- Mom, thanks for chopping the nuts and helping me.

A- Your welcome.

In that moment I could see the me in her come out. Her actions so mimicked mine, I loved her.

I loved that she wasn't to prideful to say "thank you."

It's cool to see the things that make them who they are, little things in the the way they move, or talk, their actions, and facial expressions....their character....

It's always cool when it spills out of them when I least expect it.

The cake turned out great. She put an excellent cream cheese frosting on the top that had some left over powdered up pecans mixed into it. DELICIOUS!

Yank a doodle from your nose dude, I think you gotta bat in the cave.........

There is some stuff that kids just have to know......

......and because we home school that means I have to teach them these things......

......you know so they can be normal and all.....I wouldn't want folks to say my kids were weird cause they didn't do things that the other kids do. I want them to have a good solid foundation to jump off of when they go into the "real world".......

.....but what would a solid foundation be if they didn't have any good people skills.....you know act like normal kids do and all......

So I have to teach my children these things they don't get to experience because they are not in public school, like.....

**how to make the fart sound by blowing on your arm, armpit farting, & behind the knee farting

**how to make yourself fake burp. Maysie has become quite proficient at this task.

**They needed to learn how to do those fun hand shake games to the tune of:

Big Mac, Fillet-O-Fish,

Quarter Pounder, French Fries,

Icy Coke, Thick Shakes,

Sundaes & Apple Pies

**how to slap each other in the face by holding a persons arm out straight

tapping the hand, say "Sugar"

tapping the crease of the arm, say "Candy"

tapping the shoulder, say "Lolli"

slapping the face lightly, say "Pop"

Sugar, Candy, Lolli - Pop.......see?....now, the key is to show this to the older children first without the baby present.....because he too will want to join in the face slapping fun. He will not understand "Pop" the face lightly and declare a smack down by nearly knocking the older brothers head off his shoulders, causing him to look like he has been in freezing weather to long on one side of his face.

same concept with the hand, arm crease, shoulder scenario....

It's about time,

It's about space,

It's about time,

to slap your face (insert the pop on the face on the last line....lightly, not when the baby is present because......again they do not understand the concept of 1/2 doing anything....it's all or nothing. The baby wants to slap your face off or cry because he cannot slap your face off)

** Another handy thing for home schooled children to know is mean jokes. Because there are mean people in the world and they need to know how to deal with those people.

So I taught the older two children this mean joke, because when I was in public school this helped me to grow and become a more balanced, successful adult......

You take a dandelion from the ground when they are watching you, break off a small piece of the stem where it was connected to the ground and say this,

"I bet if you hide this on your body some where I can find it. Here, you hide this when I turn my back where I cannot see it, somewhere on your body.......when I turn back around I will wave this dandelion around your body and when it gets to the spot where the small piece of stem is hidden all the little fuzzy things will blow off."

.....kids cannot resist this type of request, because it's just so crazy wild to think about, they get excited in disbelief but are willing to see if it will really work......trust me, I know.......

....so they hide it and tell you that they are ready, everyone watches anxiously as you wave the dandelion head around the body, over the legs of the jeans, up and down the shirt arms, over their backs, around their hair and ears, back down their jean legs......they are waiting.......wait for it ........wait for it..........

Say this accusingly, "You didn't hide it on you!"

kids - "yes I did!!"

you wave it around just a slight bit more and then say this, "Open your mouth."...as if you are going to see if they hid it in their mouth.....

and when the mouth opens you shove the dandelion onto their tongue........onto their tongue, NOT DOWN THEIR THROAT........................then you should run .......and if you have had a bunch of kids, you need to be sure you are wearing your Depends that day, or it could be bad for you.

It doesn't matter at this point if you are their mother trying to teach them life lessons to help them be normal people when they grow up.....the children will chase you and when they catch you, and they will catch you, the child will shove lots & lots of grass and sticks down your pants, and the child may even try to lick you to get the dandelion off of his tongue, cause they are really sticky once they get wet.

It is really sort of gross, but it's super funny and it is a lesson they'll not forget soon.

** A helpful skill for getting rid of hiccups is to ask them, "What color is a white horse?" This will only work one time, the first time, after that it will never work again......use that wisely

** because being an adult requires them to manage their time well, one needs to know how to take care of some things in a hurry. Like pouring coke into a glass with ice and waiting for the dumb fizz to go down so you can pour some more coke and wait, pour some more coke and wait and so on.......

.....all this time spent waiting on fizz to go down they could have been eating and then going on about the job at hand......now they are 10 minutes behind schedule all because of the fizz waiting. To rectify time management skills I taught them if they lick their pinky finger and stick it in their ear and then put it on their coke fizz, the fizz will dissipate at a highly rapid speed. Thus putting the eating schedule back on track and the rest of the day also.

It's about time management.

(I have no idea who taught this to me, but it has been an invaluable life skill in times when speed has been mandatory)

All home schooled children must learn these poems to be considered "normal children"....

........you know socialized and all.....

Beans, beans, good for your heart.

the more you eat, the more you fart.

The more you fart, the better you feel...

beans, beans, for every meal!

...if you just can't bring yourself to contaminate your child with the word "fart" there is this version you can use instead....but please know, this is not considered the "normal child" version. Your home schooled child may be slightly off side of normal if you choose this version.

Beans, beans, magical fruit.

The more you eat, the more you toot.

The more you toot, the more you fly.

Like superman, across the sky!

See........now really..............that's just lame. Just let your child say "fart" and try to get over yourself.

early in the morning in the middle of the night

two dead boys got up to fight

back to back they faced each other

drew their swords and shot each other

a deaf policeman heard the noise

and came and killed the two dead boys

if you don't believe this lie is true

ask the blind man he saw it too!

(sing to "Yankee Doodle")

Yank a doodle from your nose

Yank a doodle dandy

Yank a doodle from your nose

and eat it like its candy

(sung to tune of "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean")

My Bonnie has tuberculosis

My Bonnie has only one lung

My Bonnie can spit up some mucus

And roll it around on her tongue

Okay...............That just about wraps up my "How to make your home schooled children normal" lesson for today. If you have any further questions about proper dandelion shoving technique or acceptable face slapping for fun, please direct them to me at a later date, cause I am delirious and going to bed now.

Lawry's season salt = no kisses......................

I had grapefruit for breakfast a couple days ago and half was left uneaten on the plate while I read the paper. May ask could she have a bite because it looked so juicy and good. I was really excited she wanted to taste it so I cut her a small bit. Which led to the other three Curious Georges telling me they would like to try it also. I guess they figured if May was going to try grapefruit, there must be something to it. So I cut them all a small bit.
May hated it but liked the smell.
Sky gagged of course and spit hers on a paper plate headed to the garbage can.
Z hated it, and CB managed to chew his up while making an awful sour face.

We all watched to see if he would get it down and his eyes started to water. His tongue was coming out of his mouth with out direction from his brain because of the sour, bitter taste that he had not experienced before. Then he swallowed, smacked his lips together a bit and gained control of his tongue and said, "Well,.............(blinking his eyes a bit) that was tasty."

We had to laugh. I asked him did he like it, he said, "Yes, but I don't want anymore Mom." He hasn't wanted anymore since.

.........................................................

I made a great salad to go with our steaks last Sunday after church. I had topped them off with a few Baco's Bacon Bits. While cleaning up I decided to look at the bottle randomly. My eyes wandered to the ingredients to notice that there is absolutely no meat in Baco's at all. The little bits are basically made of flour, dye, and flavoring. This sorta grossed me out. Once we use these up I will probably not buy these again, unless I need mass bits in hurry and cheap.

So I announced to May who was still munching on her salad, "Did you know there is no real meat in these Baco's?"
M- No.....that's weird, they taste just like bacon.
A- Yeah, it's kinda gross, huh?
M- They should call them Fake-o's......
A- Yeah they should....
Sky-(who eats the world on a spoon) Well, I don't care......... I think the Fake-o's taste good.

..........................................................

Cole wants chocolate milk as soon as his feet hit the floor in the morning, about 6:30 or 7:00 if I am lucky. So he woke up in a BAD mood yesterday and was whining incessantly. It was killing me at 7:00 to have to hear that at the start of the day.

A- (right in his face, eye to eye)Cole! If you want some chocolate milk, you say to me "I want some chocolate milk please" without WHINING!!

C-(pouty) "I want some chocolate milk please without whining"

.......................................................................

I made D french toast the other morning for breakfast before work. I asked him how it tasted, he said, " I think it'd be better if it had some Lauren's(Lawry's) season salt.".........

which reminded me of this.........One morning a couple years ago I had made him french toast for breakfast. I kept smelling something like hamburgers while I was cooking, it was strange, I looked around, but could not figure it out, it was weird and it bothered me but I was too busy to continue looking for the smell and pressed on making the french toast.

A-(to D at the kitchen table, who was born with no sense of smell, for real) Something over here smells like hamburgers, I just started smelling it.
D- (silence, not really paying attention to me)

I hand him 3 pieces of toast and syrup and continue on cooking for the kids to eat later when they get up.

D- Did you put salt on these?
A- No, gross on french toast? Did you want salt on them?
D- No, but these taste different...

still cooking....

D- Are you sure you didn't put salt on these?
A- Yes, I never put salt on french toast...(I am getting aggravated) If you don't like the stupid things then don't eat them.

smell driving me nuts, not really paying attention to D cause I am trying to figure it out...

D- (after have eaten two almost a third piece) Amy, I swear something is salty on these what did you put on them?
A- (I am severely agitated now from his going on) I dang mixed eggs, vanilla, and some milk and a small bit or orange juice!! I dredged the dang toast in the mix and put it in the pan, (I pick up the bottle of cinnamon sugar...so I think) I sprinkled some dang cinnamon sugar them and put them on your PLATE!! (showing D the bottle so he could see the cinnamon sugar himself)
D- Amy, that is Laurens (Lawry's cause he can never remember the name right) Season Salt!!

I look at the bottle and I'll be dag goned if he wasn't right and I had to just laugh cause the smell was the salt cooking on the toast the whole time.....and salt on french toast is just gross.....and he already ate two and 1/2 pieces...funny, funny, funny

A- Oh Babe, I am sooooooo sorry...(sort of laughing a little, cause it's just so funny to me now)
D- (gets up from the table aggravated at me now cause he has heart burn) I AM DONE, I feel sick and I have heartburn, I think you are trying to kill me before I go to work, I can't believe I ate that, I am leaving......

A- Wait! I'm sorry!! Let me get your lunch......!!
D- I don't want no dang lunch with season salt all over it, that was awful, I gotta go to work (he hurriedly brushes past me without a kiss goodbye)
A- Well, what about my 3 kisses?!
D- NO kisses for YOU today!.....(and the door slams)

......so freakin funny even today.......so I always check to be sure I have the cinnamon sugar and not the season salt when I make french toast now.....or either I just buy the big, fat, nice cinnamon bread....that eliminates the need to sprinkle altogether.

aawww, he'd just had some road rash, it woulda healed, he'd been fine lookin..........

I been so dang busy.

This past Friday I participated in the community "tard sale." Cause "t" & "y" are close to each other on the keyboard, my outlook calendar told me Friday was the day of the "tard sale."

I wondered which of my kids I could sell that day.

anyway.....I made $70 or so, that enabled me to go to Mimi's Cafe today after church with Sarah for an amazing breakfast in the middle of the day. They serve breakfast till 3:00, AWESOME! I had the new thick blueberry french toast with this blueberry cream and fresh blueberries & strawberries on top with two eggs over easy and three piece of bacon, fresh grapefruit juice, and two mocha lattes.........and so much girl chatter that Sarah and I hardly breathed till she dropped me off in my driveway at 4:30. I passed D coming in as he was heading back to church this evening. I love him for letting me go to lunch, breakfast....lunch.....breakfast for lunch, whatever....with Sarah, cause I love Sarah. I don't care how good or bad I am, Sarah loves me. Even when I am bad she may not say it right out, but I know she doesn't agree with me, I can dig it that she doesn't always agree with me.

.....though today she agreed with me on everything and I agreed with her on everything......probably cause we were giddy with delight to eat and gab in peace with no one tugging on us to get a drink, go to the bathroom, or some one hit some one. In fact I am not 100% she nor I knows what the other said as we squeezed so much conversation into a 3 hour time span....I remember this....mmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm, this is so good, mmmmmmmm, so glad I ordered this, mmmmmmm, mmmmmmmm, another mocha latte? yes please.......mmmmmmm, no I don't want any of yours it will ruin my perfect taste, something about Genera hyper color shirts, elevators stopping on every floor and some angel at Krystal's or something.

OK, back to the "tard sale," so the first shoppers were 2 ladies. I am 100% sure they were baptists by the way they were talking. One lady is young but looks old cause she is dressed way to old for her age, the other lady is old and gossipy about something "that is a shame that she don't git ta see them kids cause they need thar momma." Then she goes on to say her church is having revival and all about the revival. She never once asks me to come to her church revival, not that I would have, but I sort of thought that was the point of havin revival....to revive the community. So I ask her, "Are you all Baptist?"

lady- uh, yeah , Shoog(southern short for sugar), we are, why'd you ask?

A- I just heard you talk about revival and all....(and about other folks and "that's justa shame" and all)

Lady- oh, uh huh.....(goes on gossiping about the girl who don't get to see her kids and heads out)

Later on in the day I meet a total hillbilly with overalls and a torn up white t-shirt, skinny, fellow, with a dirty baseball cap, and some teeth........but a SUPER SWEET guy. He can't believe I am selling children's books for 25 cents and wants to know which ones a 3 year old would like. He looks at the pages, notices the colors and 3 year old friendly things in the books and buys 5 books for his girlfriend's little boy. He also buys him a jacket and I throw in some other things cause he is such cool, mild, loving guy, looking for things that will make the mom and the little boy happy. I hope they liked what he bought.

Then, one of the last guys to come to the "tard sale" is a 55 year old, married 4 times, Santa Claus looking man, who looks 65 or 70 to me and his 21 year old youngest boy of three kids by his last wife of 26 years, who he "reckons he will keep." They are looking for fishing gear, tools, & motorcycle stuff. I inform him my husband has no gear cause he's banned from motorcycles till his kids are grown. I explain to him the wreck and the importance of his life to my family....and how his face woulda been peeled off if he hadn't been wearing a super good helmet.

The man proceeds to school me on how dangerous helmets are, and how there are no good helmets. How they are the most dangerous piece of equipment a rider can wear. To which I tell him D would have a messy face without it...... I am for helmets, to which he informs me .....

Biker Santa-aawww, he'd just had some road rash, it woulda healed, he'd been fine lookin

A- I'm still for helmets I don't care....

Biker Santa- I can't hear that good, what?

A- (talking significantly louder)I'm still for helmets I don't care....

Biker Santa- Them thangs can break yer neck, now....... you put yer fingers on the side of yer face on the eyes you got no peripheral vision....do it, ya see that?

A- (I do it, he is correct)- I' don't care, I am still for helmets.....

Biker Santa- You know when I had my kids my wife quit ridin so ya know, two parents wouldn't be killed ridin, jist one, I had all my kids from tha time theyz one on a motorcycle

A- Good Lord man, did they wear a helmet?

Biker Santa- I can't hear that good, say it again, what?

A- (louder) Did they wear a helmet?!

Biker Santa - They all ride bikes, .....have been their whole lives, I been in 5 wrecks. I dun hit or been hit by 5 cars ridin (starts listing all his broken bones, so many I can't remember them all) and on top of that I been stabbed and shot too.

A- Good Lord man, maybe ridin motorcycles is something you should reconsider, if I wuz yer wife I'd been dun grounded you.

Biker Santa- shooooot, I'm 55 years old Ma'am, I ride a Harley on one wheel with the front wheel in the air with my wife ridin behind me.

A- Good Lord Man! Do you hear yourself talkin?!! That is pure madness, I couldn't be married to you!!

(the son is smiling and headin back to the truck)

Biker Santa- My son right thar, his friends told'em, I like riding in tha truck with yer daddy, he drives crazy.

A- Well, why can't you hear?(cause now I am dang hollerin in my garage and it's stupid)

Biker Santa- cause I was fightin at bar when I was younger, that's when I got shot

A- In yer dang ear?!

Biker Santa- Nope, in my arm and shoulder, but we'z all fightin, I got hit in tha ear,...... I'z in high school then......

A- .....and you got in a bar fight?!! Good Lord man, it's time you settle yer butt down, put that Harley on two wheels. You ain't drinkin no more is ya?

Biker Santa- oh no Ma'am, cause last time I drove 749 miles across some states and 10 miles before I got home I fell asleep ridin and my kids thought I wuz drunk, so I stopped drinkin while I was ridin cause I didn't want them ta worry bout me drinkin and drivin. I like to talk .....(he's smilin at me and he is quite charming, his son's standin by the truck still smilin)

A- (hollerin to the son)- Is yer daddy just jackin around with me tellin me all this stuff?

Son- No Ma'am...he's crazy, but I love him crazy like that. He does like ta talk now......

A- Alright, well all I gots children's stuff and some Christmas decorations, can you pop a wheelie on any of that?

Biker Santa- (smiling showing me perfectly white straight teeth) I can poppa wheelie in this truck Hun if you give a minute....(he's laughin, walking away) You have a good weekend Hun and tell yer husband he needs to get his woman in line and get another bike.......

A- I hear ya, don't run over my plants backin up, Bye!!

They wave me off, still smilin.....I bet them two had a nice weekend.

......."tard sales" are a lot of work, but the people that come by are kinda fun.